


Take my heart (and please don't break it)

by espritneo



Category: GoldenEye (1995)
Genre: Alec is really oblivious, Alec isn't getting it, Alpha James Bond, Background Alpha and Omege Equality, Best Friends to Lovers, Consent is Sexy, Fade to black sex, Fluff, James is trying, M/M, Mild Angst, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Nothing but self-indulgent fluff, Oblivious Alec, Omega Alec Trevelyan, Pining, Poor James, Solo Rut, they were housemates!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-25 22:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espritneo/pseuds/espritneo
Summary: In a world where alphas and omegas are equals and the base instinct is to provide instead of claim, James has decided Alec is the omega for him and has been buying increasingly outlandish gifts with Alec’s comfort and hobbies in mind. But as far as Alec is concerned, nothing’s changed; they share everything don’t they?Inspired by the following prompt: a/b/o fanfiction excpet that instead of people's "uncontrollable animal instincts" being rape-y possessive pseudo-wolf bs, it's all based on birds.....doing ridiculous competitions to win over omegas...
Relationships: James Bond/Alec Trevelyan
Comments: 16
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alexis_Tenshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Tenshi/gifts).



> Loosely inspired by this post: https://bendingsignpost.tumblr.com/post/640512749574717440/i-deeply-deeply-enjoy-the-concept-of-bowerbird
> 
> And veered into an intense gift-giving situation with baffled Alec right in the thick of things.

He never travels directly home from a mission. It makes him uncomfortable to display his dirt and fatigue to the rest of the world. So what he'll do is he'll treat himself with a luxury hotel, get scrubbed up, have a drink or two, sleep soundly on clean sheets, pamper himself a bit.

His inner omega likes that.

He’s less indulgent than James, the hedonist, but he is still an omega and he’s not immune to touch-starvation, the terrible feeling of loss when he doesn’t indulge his instincts.

Omegas are biologically predisposed to seek out touch. Social contact from family and friends. Surrounding themselves with soft things that engender precious memories. Happy omegas have cuddle-networks and own a collection of comfy objects and fabrics for nesting.

These aren’t instincts he can afford to nurture on the job. So, he takes a night just to be himself.

In the morning, he'll get dressed his Chris Kerr bespoke suit, pick up his return ticket from the front desk - courtesy of the ever resourceful Bill Tanner - and then he'll swan into the office as fresh as a daisy, sending all the tongues a-wagging and eyes a-roving as he saunters down the halls of M-branch.

He does so love making a grand entrance. Especially if it makes James a bit cross-eyed with jealousy. They might share a flat, but they've never enjoyed sharing the spotlight.


	2. The house

_ October, 1993: _

That's the way today should have gone. And it did so, started off on the right foot, Moneypenny's rosy blush looking particularly fetching in the afternoon light. 

Alec leaned a hip on her desk and dared to pluck a hand off her keyboard and brush a kiss over her knuckles. This move always delighted her because alphas were too polite to make contact, even MI6's most arrogant and self-absorbed agents. Betas were in short supply at M-branch and omegas just weren't interested in another omega.

Well, their loss.

"As I was saying, Alec," she chided gently. "Your expenditures need some explaining. Line item 118: 40 pounds of fertilizer, item 205: a Triumph Bonneville, item 267: a sidecar for said Bonneville, and item 288: lighter fluid."

"There was a little problem with the front door. I made my own. It had the added benefit of ensuring no one made it out of that compound alive."

Penny gave him a chastising look and he grinned unrepentantly. Her eyes twinkled and he was assured she secretly found it all very exciting.

"What else?" 

"Just your usual stay at the casino resort. M hates it that you expense a personal night, but your contract is iron tight."

"Of course she does," he murmured. M was an ice-cold bitch of a beta, a woman that resented she wasn't born an alpha and believed that omegas had no business in the field. Fortunately, alphas were always on the omega's side when it came to social justice. Betas may be the majority gender, but by working together - alphas literally throwing their weight and omegas using their gift for gab - betas followed quite willingly.

He buttoned his jacket and obediently bussed Penny's cheek - his staunch supporter, was Penny - even if she was delusional and thought he and James made a lovely couple.

Couple of roommates, but he'd given up correcting her.

"Tonight is kobe beef at the gentleman's club," Penny reminded him. "Your favorite. Edith in accounting is waiting her turn round the town."

And that's why he loved her so. He was gone so long on missions London was an absent memory and he'd never keep his social calendar straight if not for Penny's memory and talent for organization. He firmly believed Penny could easily hold the agenda of every executive in MI6 and still have more than enough brainpower to plan a coup on the day they were all on holiday.

Things began to go sideways once he stepped into the hall. James was waiting, casually posed without actually touching the drywall, the posh bastard. Alec grinned. 

"James! What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you until I got home."

"About that..."

His stomach dropped, his inner omega instantly upset and he refused to dwell on why. "I just got the flat broken in the way I wanted it!" He lowered his voice. "Did it burn down?"

"No, no, dear. Not at all." James reassured and Alec's confusion grew. "I bought us a house." The alpha announced happily. "That's why I'm here. I couldn't have you going back to the flat building when it's already sublet."

"A house?" Alec parroted, feeling a step removed. "What for?"

"For our pleasure, really." James shrugged carelessly. "Don't you think the flat was getting cramped? Between the appliances in the kitchen - not that there's anything wrong with them!" 

Alec stopped glaring.

James adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "As I was saying, you'll love it. I bought it with you in mind, my dear. I know how particular you get in the winter. The house is well-insulated. We'll never have to turn on the heat. Ever. And you can still go bare-arsed in your rooms as you like. We each have our own floor and you get the top, of course. I insist. Plenty of sunlight, minimal sightlines into your bedroom, a small, but delightful balcony that overlooks our rear garden. That has a flowers, I might add. The realtor said the house was owned by expert florists, a husband and wife. They kept the house in excellent condition but their children can't afford to keep property in London when they live in Edinburgh. When I told them about you, they were delighted to sell the house for a modest sum."

"I liked the flat just fine, James," Alec said doubtfully. It was their first flat. Well, they'd had several in the past, but it was the first one they'd purchased with the intent to cohabitate. 

Still...

"Flowers?" He asked, curious. He'd never had the space for more than a potted plant before...

James beamed. "All sorts of leafy, petaled...things..." He made a vague gesture with his fingers. "Just up your alley. You can tell me all about it when you're free. I'll even have a cup on the back step and keep you company while you dig around in the dirt."

Alec checked his watch. "Take us home then, my dear. I'm dying for my drink before dinner at the club. Oh, mind if we stop by accounting?"

"Not at all. I was hoping you'd let me drive. I had your Jag taken home."

"You cocky bastard." Alec rolled his eyes inoffensively. They cut a path through HR to accounting two hallways over, drawing all eyes to their slim figures in well-fitted suits.

The alpha and the omega, equally lethal and equally available. Their inclination towards women had all the pencil pushers jockeying for a turn on a double-O's arm.

They caused a quiet ripple that radiated outward the moment they stepped into the office. Edith was already, facing away from her workstation, looking expectant.

"Dear heart," Alec crouched down to look her in the eye. "Are you free tonight? I had a hankering for delicately prepared kobe beef in a light citrus sauce and a dance afterwards."

Some of his dinner companions were elegant physically and verbally.

Edith, bless her heart, was not one of them. She nodded mutely, her fetching curls bouncing brightly in their bindings, and Alec grinned, charmed. His smile grew and Edith’s lashes fluttered, her expression growing lax for a heartbeat before she caught herself.

He was partial to the self-conscious ones. They were usually far more interesting once they let their guard down.

He winked and they made plans to meet at 18:30 on the steps of the club. 

“What?” 

James’ jaw was jutting sideways, a tell when he didn’t give a damn about keeping up appearances.

“Nothing.” The alpha muttered sullenly. The excitement had drained out of him and he didn’t utter another word, not while he dogged Alec’s footsteps to the DB5, or when he slid behind the wheel. He just reminded Alec of a puppy whapped on the nose, soulful eyes and all.

So he let James scowl the entire way home. 

"Careful, James," Alec finally said as they pulled up to a red-bricked townhouse. "The wrinkles will set in before you're even forty." He exited the Aston and delicately shut her door, smirking when the action made James' face soften and smooth out. 

Predictable, materialistic man.

He leaned over the roof. "Am I getting the tour or not?"

\--

Oh. 

James hadn't bought a house. He'd purchased them a  _ home _ .

Alec had never given a lot of thought to where he lived; it was pointless when he was away at least half the year. But he took the townhouse in with awe. It was everything he never knew he wanted. 

He had the  _ best _ friend.

What a clever, intuitive man.

Their common areas were located on the first floor, somehow fitting his six-foot couch in the sitting room  _ and _ an industrial kitchen without sacrificing the flow. All his appliances sat on the butcher block counter or tucked away in cabinets that reached all the way up to the ceiling. James' round dining table sat tucked in an L-shaped nook next to the rear entrance.

It was the complete opposite of their flat, which was dominated by James' preferred marble and contemporary fixtures.

There was nothing cold about their common areas. The decor was all warm wood, leather, embroidered cushions, and black accents, invoking casual comfort. 

He trailed his fingers lightly over the same furniture they'd had for two years. Everything finally looked like they belonged.

His inner omega preened. He couldn’t help the vibrations coming out of his chest.

He beamed at James with utter delight. James' eyes gleamed and he rocked on his toes, sour mood forgotten. 

The second floor belonged to James and looked exactly like his bedroom and office/den at the flat.

The third floor was his. James stayed on the stairs, his dark head and shoulders peeking through the railing. His scent was pointedly absent in Alec's designated space. The air only held hints of chemical blockers and the muted traces that told him multiple betas had moved his furniture in.

"I had to ask the movers to wrap your things," James said apologetically, like it was  _ his _ fault Alec's things hadn't magically teleported from point A to point B. "But I specified that the contents were to remain undisturbed."

Alec poked through a lone cardboard box. James coughed. "You had, um, items laying out and I tried to sweep them up without touching."

Alec reached in for his third-favorite toy and tapped the silicone against his cheek, laughing at the flush sweeping up James’ face under his light tan. He tucked his tongue against one cheek mischeviously.

Getting a reaction out of James was too easy sometimes. He perpetually had sex on the brain and he imagined the alpha was now distracted by thoughts of his own dinner date.

James ducked out of sight. "Come downstairs," he called back, his smooth tenor crumbling. "I have a surprise." 

Alec ran the toy under his nose. It smelled only of soap, nitrile and powder. James had worn gloves when he swept Alec's old bedroom. 

Such a predictable gentleman of an alpha.

He peeped through the railing and admired the tight bum disappearing around the corner. 

So maybe he had perpetual sex on the brain, too. He had eyes after all and James was objectively pretty.

\--

James was grinning mischeviously when Alec found himself flat-footed at the sight of a  _ subterranean single lane gun range _ .

"I thought you said they were florists!" His voice cracked embarrassingly. “Who digs into their foundation other than serial killers?”

"They were florists," James shrugged, inordinately smug. "The basement was their larder and flower drying workshop. The house was built over a former WWII bunker and given the length, I thought we'd get more use out of a firing range for target practice. The locker has several rifles and explosive devices you've expressed interest in."

Alec's mouth dropped open. He slowed his unexpectedly rapid breathing and lifted the trunk’s lid, automatically scanning its contents. His eye caught sight of an RPG-22 launcher.

“We can’t use that here. The backblast’ll blow the foundation out.”

“That’s on loan from Q,” James’ intonation suggested there was a secret to uncover. “Ammunition stayed in the lab. But you can tinker to your heart’s content.”

Something warm and fond unfurled in his chest, foreign yet familiar, but he couldn't, for the life of him, recall any associations. 

James, oblivious, beckoned him with a hand. "Come on," he wheedled. "I've saved the best for last."

There was more?

\--

Oh bloody hell.

The best turned out to be a tiny back garden overflowing with flowers and plants. Hollyhock and foxglove mingled with bushes of phlox and geranium, shocking the bland London sky with showers of color.

Alec sat down on the steps, overwhelmed. "Who's going to take care of all this?"

"I rather thought you'd enjoy it." James said tentatively from the doorway. 

"I'm never here!" He nearly shouted, inexplicably furious at the waste. Waste of flowers, of life, of decades devoted to making this little postage stamp of land thrive. "You've thrown away all your money!"

"You'll hire a gardener when you're on missions," James shrugged uncaring. His eyes were drawn tight, his posture uncharacteristically rigid and taking up as little space as possible. "If you don't like it, you needn't worry over the silly things, 006. They're just plants. It's just money. What good has it done sitting in a bank?"

007 turned to go back inside. "Stop fretting, old boy, and get changed. You'll miss your date."

Date? 

Edith! Dinner at the club!

Alec suddenly wanted nothing less. He considered sending a note down, faking sickness. He wanted to sit in his ready-made garden of cottage flowers and take care of the pruning. The geraniums were starting to look unruly from months sitting on the market.

He wanted to set up his N64 in the sittting room and challenge James to a death match so he'd abandon his own dinner plans. 

He wanted to get his things settled and get his scent properly dispersed around his nest and maybe invite James up for a nightcap so the alpha would leave a lingering presence the way their scents lightly mingled at the flat.

There's tomorrow, he consoled himself. Tomorrow and the week after, plenty of time. The house was theirs. And there would be much to do to get his share of the mortgage settled. 

Buoyed by the truth of permanence, Alec skipped up the stairs. He had a night of excellent Japanese steak, drinks and dancing to look forward to.


	3. Alec

However, once they settle into their three-story townhouse, James goes into spurts of abnormal behavior.


	4. December

_ December, 1993: _

Alec paused  _ Doom _ when the front door slammed shut like it got headbutted like a goal-winning shot.

James staggered around the corner with a large haul of colorful quilts and furs. He dumped the entire pile on the sofa, practically on Alec's lap.

"Do you remember that time in Belarus you said you missed your grandmother's quilts?"

He did, but it never occurred to him that James would. He had been maudlin and full of vodka, fresh off a high-speed chase where James nearly lost him when he jumped off the bridge onto a convoy of covered vehicles and he'd had to steal a motorcycle and hijack James' lorry to get him back.

Afterwards, he and James shared an overstuffed armchair in front of the fireplace, neither of them quite comfortable, except in the way alcohol running through their veins melted their bodies and planted their arses right on the cushion, loathe to move except to pass the bottle back and forth. The fire had crackled cheerfully and the hearth radiated skin-tingling heat. Feeling snug and cozy, James a long, steady line at his back, his mouth ran away from him.

He didn't remember much about his childhood, but his grandmother's blankets, handed down from mother to daughter for generations, made an impression. She would bring them out in the winter and let him play and nap in them as he wished, not caring that a toddler could easily ruin family heirlooms.

He remembered they were warm and they reminded him of freshly-cut firewood and cast iron stoves, his grandmother plying him with sweets she made just that morning.

Sticky fingers and hot drinks, her stories while she made loaf after loaf, filling the kitchen with the scent of hungry yeast.

He acknowledged that the quilts simply embodied a cherished period he'd never experienced again.

His brain was still busily reminding him he had a soft underbelly when James' face lit up and he made an expansive gesture at the mess he'd made.

"I found a textile artisan that makes blankets the old ways: Ivanov cotton, patchwork and all," he lilted, grinning like a shaggy-haired newfoundland bringing his master some prey. "I promised him a tidy sum if he sold me everything he had. Quilts take time to make so he threw in some furs."

"You never struck me as a cuddler.” Alec admitted. Five years of friendship and still so much he didn’t know about the alpha. “This'll be a bit much for the sofa. We'd have nowhere to sit."

"I don't mind. This is exactly what I pictured."

Strangely enough, James looked and smelled utterly truthful. 

An idea struck him. "I'll move a few thousand pounds to your account. We'll leave two down here - one of each - and I'll keep the rest. I'd offer to leave some for you, but I know you'd let the dust settle on them."

James' face hardened. "Absolutely not, they're a present." He sounded stung. "And you're right. They're all meant for you. Put them wherever."

"Nonsense, they'll get in the way. Look right now, there's barely any room on the sofa for me!"

James shrugged, uncaring, his eyes full of mischief. "Looks appealing to me." His tone turned hopeful and he gave Alec his best smile, "any chance you'd budge over and let me climb in?"

Alec laughed. "Try that charm when I'm not playing E4M1." He restarted the map and leaned towards the television. He didn't let himself consider how ridiculous he must look with his head and hands sticking out of a mess of brightly colored fabric.


	5. March

_ March, 1994 _ :

Alec, fresh from a trip to Cuba, still got an immeasurable thrill out of walking into  _ his  _ home - with its four levels of familiar scents, a sanctuary where he could let his guard down, and all the excitement he could want during downtime at his fingertips - under his own roof. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone on a date, outside of his social dinners. 

He left his luggage in his private sitting room and went looking for some breakfast.

And his roommate, since James was meant to be home as well, nursing a fractured tibia. Penny said 007 had been a bear since MI6 retrieved him from Croatia via helicopter and fast-tracked him to the nearest military base where he gave his report and received medical care. He was shipped home not long after that, and M put him on disability while his leg healed.

He found everything he was looking for in the kitchen. 

Alec looked around suspiciously for any sign his best friend had tampered with the appliances.

James shot him a mock hurt look. "I haven't destroyed any of your precious children."

"Hello, James." Alec was genuinely pleased to see the taller man. James and he had mostly missed each other in the past three months, one sent away just before the other was due to fly home. 

(There was one time he traveled to Rome using the Jag and he could fudge his agenda just to have lunch with James at a cafe across the Thames.

James had sent him off with chocolates from Geneva and fingerfood takeaway with an air of soft contentment.)

"Have a snack. I bet you're famished and I have just the thing."

James rummaged through the fridge. A low hum filled the kitchen, reverberating loudly from the alpha. 

Alec sniffed discreetly. He’d been expecting his best friend to be grumpy and climbing the walls, not languid and looking freshly shagged.

But he couldn’t smell any sign of an interloper. Had James gone out? With a plaster cast?

James hobbled to the island and served Alec a plate of strawberries and a dish of clotted cream. He abruptly cut his subvocal vocalization off, a sheepish expression on his face. "Strawberries are out of season but I called in a few favors. These are imported; a whole crate, just for you, so the fridge is full of them."

Touched, Alec helped himself to several pieces as he thought. "This is really nice, James, too generous for a friend. I have Cuban cigars I'm happy to trade as a thank you."

James looked abruptly angry and disappointed for a split second before he smiled graciously and changed the subject.

"A Cuban to smoke in our rear garden while we have a drink sounds heavenly."

Something in his words made Alec suddenly unsure whether to believe the peek into James' mercurial moods. It had been a blink-and-you-miss-it moment and it definitely went over his head. He mentally set it aside for later consideration.

He'd made a much more puzzling observation. 

"James," he'd asked around the strawberry-flavored cream he sucked off the fruit. James made a distracted questioning sound, deep in his throat with his lips parted.

Alec found himself flushing hot for no reason. "When was the last time you were on a date?"

"Don't know," James answered absently, eyes still fixed on the fruit in Alec's hand. "Haven't felt like it."

Alec couldn’t hide his surprise. So it  _ wasn’t _ a pull. “The ladies of London no longer up to snuff?” He joked, wincing as soon as the terrible joke left his mouth.

James ducked his head, shy for some reason and Alec finally finished the strawberry he was nibbling. The light, juicy sweetness was really hitting the spot. Contentment spread through him in waves, soothing his post-mission tension and re-energizing the core of him, the parts that were just Alec. 

Missions usually left him feeling hollowed- out and empty. He wasn’t pegged for honeypot missions, that was James’ flair, not his, and he was glad for it. Touch starvation was bad enough, but prolonged social contact with a mark? Without the trust he required to let his instincts take over? He’d burn out twice as fast.

So post-mission adrenaline was the other reason why his de-stressing ritual was so important. But he thought that if he had regular access to quiet moments like these, with James, the alpha anticipating his wants before he even realized he had any, it would be almost as good as pampering himself with luxury sheets.

"Well, I'm sure it'll pass," he added when the silence grew stale. "There'll be some bright, nubile young thing to emerge from the wings. And perhaps she'll have a wingwoman I'll be able to accompany home."

Alec was too distracted with his unexpected treat to really think about James' odd behavior. 

Later, he'd recall James' reflexive grimace, and he’d wonder how he was so blind.


	6. July

_ July, 1994: _

"What's this?" Alec turned over a sleek plastic and metal contraption now occupying space on his nice, tidy kitchen counter. A contraption that had decidedly  _ not been there _ when he left.

"Ice cream machine." James waved a spoonful of breakfast. Unlike Alec, who only bothered to put his pants on that morning, the alpha had on a matching set of pajamas. "Every year you complain summer is too hot and commercial ice cream is too sweet. The freezer's already stocked with frozen fruit. I put the dry ingredients like chocolate chips and caramel in the cupboard."

"Strawberries?" Alec said hopefully.

"And real vanilla bean." James confirmed.

He really should start doing nice things for James; the alpha had always been exactly what he needed in a friend and brother-in-arms, their relationship so natural it thrived without any attention. But lately, James was going above and beyond for reasons Alec hadn't figured out.

James misunderstood his silent regard. "There's Iceberry in the freezer to tide you over." And went right back eating like it wasn't a big deal.

Alec swallowed an unexpected lump in his throat and busied himself finding a frozen treat. Iceberry  _ Lakomka _ was a Russian favorite and not something he'd find at a Tesco's. He pressed it briefly to his neck, the chill shrinking the frog sitting in his esophagus, and wandered to the sofa, where he sprawled out on the leather. 

It was bloody hot, the temperature an unbearable 28 degrees. He’d wanted to spend most of the day in his nest, but that was impossible when the heat managed to penetrate the house’s insulation. 

He unwrapped the cylindrical chocolate covered ice cream on a stick, wrapping his lips around one end and moaning at the icy burst of flavor.

James cursed.

Alec snapped off a small mouthful and lifted his head. "Alright there, Jamesy?"

"Yes," came the strangled response. James was tilting his head back, a napkin pressed to his nose. "Just a summer nosebleed. It is blazing this morning."

Alec sat up and scooted to one end, concerned. "Well come over here. Grab an ice pack and I'll help you prop your head up."

He pulled his friend down so his thigh helped tilt James' head back and held the ice pack in place. He grinned at James' wide- eyed expression. "Don't worry; I'll try not to drip on you. But I'm not going to lie; going shirtless is going to make it easier for cleanup." He leaned back and slurped the melting ice cream.


	7. August

_ August, 1994: _

London unveiled the Eurostar in the summer of 1994, to Alec's eternal delight. He had a weakness for trains. He loved the hands-off luxury, with their dining cars and first-class private cabins. A man could travel in style in a fully-stocked well-designed train. 

In his younger days, he imagined owning one, and the types of cars he would custom-fit for a cross-country trip.

Then he'd grown up, joined MI6, spent more time out of the country fighting for his life on planes, boats, and trains, and he'd quite forgotten about being a passenger.

Until London opened the Eurostar for public use.

On a whim, he took a holiday, thinking he'd join in on the maiden voyage through the Channel tunnel and ride it all the way to Brussels.

He didn't let himself get too hopeful and he was right to do so. Tanner called just before he stepped out the door and James - damn his obedience - called him back inside.

So, on the very day he hoped to spend hours listening to the Eurostar’s mechanical hum, he ended up taking a plane to Marseille. The jet setting wasn't a hardship. Any other week, he'd enjoy the sun, sea, baccarat, and all the beautiful women. 

Instead, he performed his assassination and skipped his night at the Palais Marseille in favor of getting back to his nest as soon as possible. 

James was absent and the townhouse dark when he arrived. Alec's only thoughts were for the bath he wanted to take and getting his hands on the blankets on the sofa. 

If he was lucky, James had been occupying the sofa while he was gone and the blankets would carry his scent into Alec's nest.

The pleasant side effect of moving was that instead of the extra space diluting their combined scents, it encouraged them to spend time together. He might have started it; omega senses were more sensitive and he’d immediately tried to eliminate the scent “zones”. James followed his lead so easily that he can’t remember who initiated what. But now, James regularly came up to his floor for a drink, even though the alpha still refused to enter without being invited. They shared the sofa like it was a two-seater, sitting far closer together than two grown men normally tolerated.

At some point, casual touch turned commonplace. Omegas were tactile people, even males. Alec often fell on the far side of the spectrum, which suited his job and his lifestyle, and James was the reverse, when he permitted himself the luxury. 

So maybe they just met in the middle, finding an easy equilibrium in this new stage of their friendship. James reached out more often and in turn, Alec didn’t think twice about draping himself more proprietarily than was polite. 

James always smelled so happy.

He was halfway up his flight of stairs when he saw an extremely large object casting shadows on the walls. It took up so much space that Alec had to shove it as he walked; he couldn't edge past.

That helped him realize that someone - James - left a stuffed five foot tall Thomas the Train. The toy stayed upright on its own fuzzy wheels.

It smelled like James and Alec found himself shoving all his finds into the bedroom and next to his nest.

He filled the soaking tub and stripped down, wiping his skin perfunctorily with a flannel before sinking into the perfumed water. He wet his hair and melted into the porcelain until he was immersed up to his forehead, holding his breath for long minutes of steady exhalation that drained the last vestiges of his inhuman mask and he felt light and floaty.

He rested his head on the edge, eyes closed. The steam filled his nostrils with the scent of vanilla bean, clove and wintermint. His usual go-to was lavender and geranium, neutral but calming aromas. 

Lately, though, he'd been gravitating more and more towards scents that reminded him of their townhouse. It was probably a subconscious attempt to calm his paranoia with reminders that his surroundings were familiar and safe, that he was in the one place he called his.

With every mission that passed, the townhouse had come to mean more and more to him. It was where he laid his head to rest, where he opted to enterain himself, and now, his preferred location for re-identifying his sense of self.

He sloughed off the last of 006's psychological muck in the cooling water and exited the tub feeling lighter and clearer-headed. 

James was a wonderful man for finding a soaking tub large enough for his 5'10" frame.

He patted himself dry and rolled around in his nest, making deep, fullbodied rumbles. He liked keeping his bed, his nest, made when he was away on a mission, party because his training had drilled a certain level of tidiness into him. But mostly because once he came home, he could do  _ this _ : roll around, mussing the sheets and blankets, covering them in his bath-scent and letting James' spice and menthol bouquet in the sofa blankets rub off onto him.

He massaged his cheekbone and neck into the quilted squares, humming, and eyed the stuffed train consideringly.

It was sweet of James to pick up on his disappointment when he didn't get to go on his Eurostar trip. Even sweeter the alpha's first thought was bring a train to him if he couldn't go out to the train.

He never gave the children's series much thought, to be perfectly honest, but the oversized toy seemed perfect: plush and lovely to touch, still carrying the alpha's calming presence, even from its position next to the bed. 

On a whim, he moved the nightstand on the far wall and tucked Thomas in the small space with the train level with his head on the pillow.

Much better. 


	8. September

_ September, 1994 _

He came home from Moldova to find a frail-looking 007 passed out on the sofa. His nose crinkled at the stench. James didn’t smell bad, he caught fresh soap and shampoo, he just radiated misery.

It turned out to be an accidental rut, one that blindsided James completely. James was normally conscientious about his body and it wasn’t like him to neglect himself off the job. 

“Feel like curry takeaway?” 

“Yeah, alright,” James’ face was hidden but Alec’s omega hearing caught his muttered response. He picked up the telephone and made a quick order. Then he turned on the match and petted James’ head.

—-

“What’s that?” James asked at last. They moved to the dining table when the food arrived. Now the two bachelors sat at perpendicular angles, James still plowing through lamb vindaloo.

“From Popova,” It was a heavily wrapped box. Alec made it through the sellotape and lifted the flaps. Crepe paper popped upright. “Belated birthday present.”

James snatched the package and set it out of reach. “Must you open it at the dinner table?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Alec shot him a dark look. What a bloody odd thing to say.

James sniffed and pulled it further away. Alec flicked him on the neck with a growl, gratified when the alpha flinched. He grabbed the box with his opposite hand.

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” He’s been dying to know for weeks. “You say you’re not courting, but you’re projecting misplaced jealousy. Popova’s not  _ your _ competition. This is my present, not your intended’s.”

He tossed out the gift stuffing and packaging, setting a small, brightly wrapped rectangle on the table. He didn’t want to leave to open his present and he hoped James sorted himself out.

“Earrings!” He perked up. It’s been ten years since he last got a pair for himself. Popova had good taste and he admired the silver and white gold studs with ear cuffs. “Stop it,” he added irritably. James didn’t bother hiding his displeasure. “And put them on me?”

James’ fingers trembled and he nearly fumbled the clasp out of his grip. Alec yelped in surprise when James suddenly pulled him in by the back of his neck.

Alec listened to James just breathe against his temple.

“What  _ is  _ wrong with you?” Exasperation bled into his voice. James stared at him very seriously.

“Nothing,” the alpha finally said. “They look good on you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr all the time lol. Come say hi! [Thatsuittho](https://thatsuittho.tumblr.com/)


End file.
